


Excuse

by yeaka



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-08
Updated: 2017-05-08
Packaged: 2018-10-29 16:08:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10857441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Erestor’s woken up.





	Excuse

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Fill for elrondxfimladris’s “34. “You come to my room and wake me up at 4am, to cuddle?” Elladan/Erestor, maybe with a soft and sweet Elladan” request on [my tumblr](http://yeaka.tumblr.com/) [from this list](http://yeaka.tumblr.com/post/160417565360/prompt-list).
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own The Lord of the Rings or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

He wakes to the quiet rustling of his sheets. The night is still thick, the air dark, though the starlight still streams in through the balcony. Erestor blinks blearily at its silhouette, too comfortable yet to bother turning. He knows that if his chambers were forcibly entered, he would’ve had a ruder awakening, and Glorfindel and a host of other guards would be swooping in.

Only a small weight indents the mattress behind him. He resists the pull to roll towards the dip. His blanket lifts, and a familiar warmth wafts behind him. Something sidles up along his back, something thick pressing against the back of his thighs, and a strong arm looping around his waist. The hand that splays against his stomach is unmistakable. He listens to a gentle sigh that tickles the shell of his ear. Then some of his hair is rearranged, tugging lightly at his skull and cleared away from his shoulder. A chin hooks over it. 

Erestor plays his hand and murmurs, “What do you need, my lord?” The pleasant scent of fresh earth and crushed lavender permeates his bed. His fondness for it helps ease any irritation over the late hour. He assumes it must be a pressing matter that drew his lover here, and this is merely a thoughtful way to wake him.

Instead, Elladan answers, “Nothing.” 

Erestor’s brows draw together, though his curious look is useless with Elladan nestled behind him. Elladan’s grip on him is fairly lax, but sturdy enough to tighten quickly if he should wish to. With a faint flicker of annoyance, Erestor dryly summarizes, “You snuck into my room in the middle of the night for nothing?”

Elladan fidgets uncomfortably. Erestor doesn’t have to see it; he can feel it. He knows Elladan’s body language better than anyone else’s. Elladan tries to explain, “I have only just returned from the hunt, and it was... a lonely time.” He pauses as though hard pressed to admit it, though Elrohir isn’t here to tease him.

The ridiculousness of it pushes Erestor to do the teasing for a change. “You were barely gone a week, and you had your brother and two others at your side.”

“But it was not _the same_ ,” Elladan insists, a lilting whine to his voice. It’s almost cute, in a pathetic sort of way, but this is all more vulnerable than they both know he should be. Sometimes, with how hard he works to keep the lands safe, it’s easy to forget just how young a prince he truly is. He burrows deeper into Erestor and weakly whispers, “I missed you.”

Erestor’s glad to be facing the other way so Elladan can’t see his smile. Elladan melts him too easily, but Elladan could melt anyone. Erestor gently amends, “So you snuck into my quarters in the middle of the night... merely to cuddle?”

Instead of answering, Elladan nods against his shoulder, and murmurs softly, “Please?” Erestor’s chest clenches—even if he wanted to, he wouldn’t have the heart to send Elladan away. 

So he slowly detangles from Elladan’s grip on him and shifts onto his other side, so he can see Elladan’s beautiful face through the waning moonlight. Elladan’s delicate smile is breathtaking, his relaxed openness an honour. Erestor finds himself reaching to run a hand through Elladan’s dark hair. Though he keeps it to himself, he does miss Elladan when those hunts occur. He simply would wait until the morning to remedy the distance. 

He doesn’t begrudge Elladan for the youthful eagerness. Instead, he rests his arm across Elladan’s body and shuts his eyes again, allowing them now to fall asleep together.


End file.
